


Tempest

by mulderbaby



Series: Fictober 2020 [15]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dana Scully Angst, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:35:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27202550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mulderbaby/pseuds/mulderbaby
Summary: Fictober Day 23Prompt: "you better leave now"
Relationships: Fox Mulder & Dana Scully, Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Series: Fictober 2020 [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1980989
Kudos: 17





	Tempest

She is a small, waterlogged boat in the midst of a tempest. Helpless against the pull of the current of her own conflicting emotions. Having willingly discarded her life jacket, the only form of security and support that had remained to her, she struggles to stay afloat as the heaviness in her heart tugs at every fiber of her being. Forces her head under the relentless waves as she is inundated by her tears. Tears, born out of a persisting fear which possesses her mind and her soul- the fear that she has made the wrong decision.

“I don't have a choice, Mulder.”  
She shudders at her own words as they play back in her mind. Squeezes her eyes shut as her tears flow freely, in treacherous synchronicity with the stream of water that travels from the shower head, over the body of her lover, and onto the cold tile floor. The ground on which he stands, threatening to crumble beneath his feet.

“Well I do have a choice. And you know what? My choice is you, Scully. I'm always going to choose you.”  
She could have followed him when he slipped out of bed and into the shower. Followed him in there, held him the way he so desperately needed to be held. The way she so desperately longed to hold him. To take away the pain that welled up inside him, to liberate him of the grief and anguish that she had incited for what she once believed to be selfless reasons. Now, she wasn't so sure.

Either way, she knows she cannot face him. Cannot bear to look into his emerald eyes and be consumed by the darkness that resides within them. They were not the same eyes that had looked at her and their son just hours ago, eyes full of love and longing for this life which they had once feared they'd never be able to share.

No, they were not the same eyes she had gazed so deeply into last night and so many nights before. The light had been stripped away from them, and she feared that it was all her doing.

If she is being completely honest with herself, she doesn't even know why it is she is making him leave. This threat she speaks of with such confidence in her voice in its ability to tear them apart, is merely a whisper of the unknown. She doesn't know for certain that it even exists, but what she does know for certain is that she'd rather not take the chance that it does and lose her family, this life they'd created together. Not when there's a possibility that the threat can be extinguished, and that she could one day have it all back. Have Mulder back and never let him go.

She pulls herself up out of bed, searching the floor for the sweater he'd worn when he arrived here for what would be the last time. As she tugs it over her head, breathing in the unmistakable scent of him, she decides that he won't be getting it back. She watches as it falls to her thighs, drowning her in the sea of him. The closest thing she'd have to him for what could be the rest of their lives.

She pushes the bathroom door fully open, and is enveloped by the steam that rises from the shower, fogging up the mirror. For that, she is grateful, as she knows she will not be able to look at herself the same ever again.

She watches him as he stands underneath the scorching water, the droplets making their way down his skin which reddens underneath them at the burning sensation. As her eyes follow them, she can't help but wish her hands could follow that same path one more time. If it were up to her, she would be in there with him, her back pressed against the cold wall as she clings to him, begging him to never let go.

But it is her who is letting go. Abandoning him, casting him away into an exile of despair and solitude. Pushing him away, in hopes that it may one day be the very reason she is able to pull him right back.

He shuts the water off, grabbing a towel to dry himself with, and her eyes follow his hands, drinking in the sight of him for what she knows will be the last time before he is gone. She's touched and kissed every centimeter of that body, and yet in this moment, she feels it will never be enough. No, she will never be able to get enough of the way he presses up against her lips, her fingers, as she marks him as her own, loving him in a way which he had never known possible.

She feels invisible, there in the bathroom with him. He doesn't look at her, doesn't even acknowledge that she is there. It can't end like this, she thinks to herself.

Next thing she knows, she is the lone occupant of the room.

Damn it, Mulder. Don't do this to me.  
Feeling her chest tighten, her airway constrict as her eyes pour over with angry, hurt tears, she makes her way back into the bedroom. He is fully dressed now, and he will be leaving any minute. Because she told him to. That it was the only way she could keep him safe. The more she told herself that, the less sense she was able to make of it. It is in this moment that she wonders if the opportunity to change her mind, to take back her words, has already passed her by.

"I'd like to hold our son." His voice is thick with the hurt that engulfs him, but still, he refuses to look at her. It breaks her heart in a way she fears will be beyond repair.

"Mulder.." she pleads with him, just to acknowledge her. "Mulder please.."

She sees his jaw set as the tears she'd seen him fight earlier, when he'd left her in bed, rush back in full force, pricking at the corners of his tired eyes. Hadn't she sworn to never hurt him like this?  
And then, finally, he looks at her. He looks at her and even through his tears, she can see the love in them. A love only she would ever know.

"It doesn't have to end this way, Mulder.." Her voice trembles as she speaks, feeling smaller than ever.

"It doesn't have to end at all, Dana."

She looks up at him, tears flooding her face as he cups it gently in his palm.

"Don't you see that?" His voice is full of desperation as he uses every last ounce of his strength to bring her to her senses.

"Mulder, I don't want to argue with you about this.. please.." she presses her cheek into his hand but he pulls it away, a renewed hurt in his eyes.

He is the tempest, her lover. And all hell is about to break loose at the mighty hand of his wrath.

But the storm doesn't come. There is no monsoon of anger and agony that erupts from deep within him. Only a sea of tears that escape from his seemingly empty eyes, threatening to pull them both underwater.

"Mulder.." her voice is a helpless whisper.

Her fingertips are so gentle against his skin, he is ready to fall to his knees and beg. Beg her to let him stay. Beg her not to sacrifice this love, this life which they'd fought tirelessly to make their own.

"You better leave now." She chokes on her words and it strips her voice of all sincerity. He hears this, this hesitation, this crack in her resolve, and it is like he has seen the light above, the light that he will follow up the surface of the sea of anguish in which he drowns. She will be his light.

"What if I don't want to?"

"Mulder please.." she wipes at her eyes frantically, but he takes her trembling hands in his own, grounding her. Saving her from the raging waters and carrying her onto shore.

"I love you, damn it, Scully. I love you and I love our son and I don't want to fucking leave." His forehead presses against hers as a sob escapes from his chest. "I won't.."

His lips which had once quivered with weakness as he pleaded with her, now are stronger, more sure of themselves than ever as they crash down over her own. His kiss consuming her, assuring her that no outcome would be worth a sacrifice as great as the one she had been so prepared to make. Promising her that no threat, however daunting, could ever conquer this love they share in all its mightiness.

———

They lay in bed later that night, bruised and battered by the relentlessness of the storm of passion they'd created, but with renewed faith in themselves. An undeniable trust in the ability of their love to defend itself against any and every wind of change.

"Mulder?" She murmurs against his warm, bare skin of his neck, trailing her fingertips along the length of his torso. How could anything be worth sacrificing the peace they share in this moment?  
"Mhm?" He mumbles into her hair, pressing a gentle kiss between her brows, eliciting a blissful sigh from between her lips. In this moment, they belonged only to each other, and that alone was enough to answer all of the questions she'd once had.

All but one.  
"You wouldn't look at me.." she starts, taking a moment to watch as he rolls onto his side so that he can gaze into her eyes. She can't help but notice that his own are soft and tender once again, and she smiles slightly, pushing his hair back with her fingers making him murmur happily as his lashes flutter, overwhelmed by the gentle simplicity of her touch.

"Hm?"

"When you were going to leave.. you wouldn't look at me.."

A little smile creeps across his lips as he draws her closer to him so that there is not a millimeter of space between them.

"First of all, I was never going to leave." He says smugly and she fights the urge to start crying again at the mess of it all, flooded with the emotion only he could stir up in her. How could anything be worth sacrificing this man and the love she feels for him?  
"Second of all.."

He pauses momentarily, needing to know that she is listening, truly hearing the words as they leave his mouth.

"I've found that it's a hell of a lot easier to say goodbye, when you can't see what it is you're leaving behind."

Her lip quivers slightly now, her tears rushing back as he tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, giving her a knowing smile.

He is the tempest. The storm surge. The angry gusts of wind that wreak havoc upon everything they touch.

He is the tempest, her Mulder. The hurricane that she never wants to seek shelter from. No matter the damage left behind, the love they share is far more devastating in its wake than even the greatest of storms could strive to be.

The tempest of their love is the greatest storm of all, and no matter the aftermath, they would always find a way to clean up the wreckage.


End file.
